The Eternal Optimist
by ethnonyms
Summary: Pale. Tired. Sick. Depressed. William didn't think it would be so difficult, adjusting to life after XANA's defeat. His friends have to forgive him eventually, don't they? They have to. He can wait. These things just take time. ONE-SHOT SERIES; post-canon, canon pairings. trauma/isolation/depression/self-harm
1. Outlook

The first rejection hurts. Of course it does. But you refuse to let that get you down for long.

You made a mistake, you're not denying it. _Nobody's_ denying it. You screwed up, big time, on Lyoko—so big that it turns out you've been fighting your own friends for months now as XANA's slave, while they tried everything under the sun to bring you back. Some Lyoko warrior, huh? You gave them a heck of a ride.

You don't remember any of it, not really, but you can tell _they_ sure do. You can see it in their eyes every time they turn to look at you. They're wondering when the other shoe is going to drop, when you'll inevitably turn on them. They blame you for what happened.

And, okay, maybe you _are_ to blame. What's done is done. You'll be the first to admit that you were careless. You honestly went kind of crazy, so caught up playing the big action hero that you fell right into XANA's trap like a miserable pawn. It's hardly the first time you've gotten in way over your head, though. That's just who you are.

(_Being sensible is just not sensible_, you once said to Yumi, sitting underneath that oak tree in the woods.)

They were all wary of you when you returned, didn't seem to want anything to _do_ with you, after all the trouble and pain they went through bringing you back to Earth. But, you've always been an optimist. You're determined. They _are_ your friends; they accepted you into their group, and they're not going to be rid of you so easily now. You're slowly starting to wear them down, one at a time.

You're not expecting much from Ulrich. Not yet. Earning his respect took long enough the first time, and now, there's something grudging and dangerous lurking in his eyes that wasn't there before. You're glad that he seems to have worked out most of his petty jealousies and insecurities while you were gone, but, the pathological resentment that replaced them isn't exactly welcome, either. It flares up whenever he sees you with Yumi. You're not going to let it stop you.

Odd treats you the way he treats everything else: like a big joke. He constantly makes wisecracks about you, about your ties to XANA, like he can't even tell the difference between what you did _then_ and what you _would_ have done, of your own free will, what you would do _now_ and you—you just can't _help_ the ugly look that crosses your face, whenever you hear him talking like that. It's probably not endearing you to him any. But then, the two of you were never close. And you have time to build the bridges still.

Aelita, you think, understands much better where you're coming from. She knows what it's like to be possessed by XANA. She knows what it means to be trapped on Lyoko without being able to return to Earth.

She _definitely_ knows about taking truly stupid risks and disobeying orders, every once in a while.

Jeremie, on the other hand, you're not certain about. He doesn't seem upset with you, knows that you had no control over your actions, but still, he hesitates. He's not going to attack you now for what you did, but he's not about to defend you from the others, either. You try not to forget that he was the one who worked the hardest to bring you back. Without him, you'd have probably been XANA's prisoner forever.

Yumi...

Yumi, you can't even tell anymore, so there's no point giving up hope that she'll someday open up to you again. Sometimes she waves to you from across the courtyard, or even sits next to you in class, smiling your way again like old times—but you two don't really talk anymore, not like you used to. She sticks to Ulrich and the others like a leech. You try not to wonder if it's only to get away from you.

It's not a secret that Yumi doesn't trust you. She _never_ trusted you, not even back when she still liked you.

You need her, though. You need _them_. You're not going to give up on winning them back over anytime soon, because the alternative is worse. Being a loner is nothing new, and maybe it wouldn't be so bad now, but at least back then you had Yumi around to talk to. Back then, you had a reputation. You could have made other friends if you wanted them.

Now, everyone at school treats you like a freak. Like an alien. And after the stories you've heard, about the past few months with the clone that Jeremie made to take your place, you guess you can't really blame them. None of the teachers will call on you in class anymore—which is fine, because you're so behind in every subject that you wouldn't know the answers anyway. The other kids stare at you constantly, not even bothering to try and hide it, like they're all waiting for a punchline that isn't coming.

You don't really know what to tell them. None of this seems very funny to you.

To be honest, you've never felt more angry and upset and alone in your life. XANA's stolen an important part of you, a piece of your life that you will never, ever be able to get back, and the others didn't even have enough faith left to give you a chance at revenge. Most of them still can't even look you in the eye, face to face.

Still, you smile like it's easy and keep _pushing_, needling, waiting for the inevitable day when they just get tired of rejecting you. They're your friends, after all, and you're an optimist. You've always been an optimist. They'll come around.


	2. Outbreak

You're supposed to be doing dissections in Mrs. Hertz's lab the day it happens. It's not exactly your idea of a good time, but it can't exactly be any worse than struggling through another lecture. At least during lab days, you're able to operate on the same set of instructions that everyone else has. You don't have to worry about how they're all working from a knowledge base several miles ahead of from your own.

Considering how many months of school you've missed over the past year, you feel like you've done a pretty decent job of keeping up with your classes in the time you've been back. None of your teachers would agree on that, but that's not the point.

That clone Jeremie made to replace you ended up taking most of your grades while you were stuck on Lyoko, under XANA's control. Somehow, though, your scores in math and physical education are still strong enough to make up at least partly for the rest, however rudely Jim acts toward you when you cross paths in the halls nowadays. If you work hard at your remaining classes, especially history, you'll _probably_ be able to scrape by with a pass at the end of the term.

You try not to think very hard about what might happen if you don't. Failure isn't an option in your eyes. After all, the absolute worst thing you can do is to give up trying before it's over.

You walk into class. There are covered trays sitting on each of the tables in Mrs. Hertz's room. The whole place smells strongly of formaldehyde, which causes a few of the girls to wrinkle their noses in disgust. Out of habit, you head straight for the furthest table at the back of the classroom, feeling Mrs. Hertz's eyes following you the whole way. You were never exactly her favorite student to begin with, and, since you've been missing, she's gotten it into her head that you're liable to disrupt her class or cause a safety hazard at any moment. She watches you constantly now, like a bird of prey, and anything you do seems to have the power to make her upset for one reason or another.

It's not really that big a deal. Still, it does get annoying sometimes, especially since Mrs. Hertz's watchful eye makes it impossible for you to disguise the fact that you have no idea what's going on in her lectures anymore. You wish there was some way to explain to her, that you're not just being lazy or a clown. It's hard enough to learn half a year of chemistry on _schedule_.

You've already resolved not to give her any reason to get mad at you today. This is your time to prove you can still be a halfway decent student. You take a minute to glance over the lab instructions on the chalkboard, carefully inspecting the drawn diagram of the upcoming dissection. The experiment doesn't look terribly complicated.

There's only one tray with a specimen on each desk, but predictably, you still end up at a table by yourself. There's an odd number of students in your grade, and nobody wants to be stuck working with a kid who lost his mind and went completely space-cadet for months at a time.

You had hoped Yumi, at least, might still be willing to work with you, even if it's just for something like class, but to your disappointment she only spares a glance in your direction before decisively walking to fill the empty seat at Caroline's table opposite yours.

Stung, you glance resolutely to the front of the room, pretending not to care for now. You make a mental note to talk to her after class. Yumi can't ignore you forever. You won't allow that.

The bell finally rings, and Mrs. Hertz taps her pointing stick on her desk to get everyone's attention. The loud chattering in the room slowly dies down and dwindles away to nothing, and everyone sits patiently in silence waiting for class to begin.

Mrs. Hertz clears her throat and began to speak.

"Today, students, you will be dissecting the marine animal _Aurelia aurita,_ more colloquially known under the common name 'moon jellyfish,'" she says, briskly motioning toward the covered trays on their desks. "The specimens sitting before you have been kindly donated by the local Curie Research Institute of Biology, since they had leftovers from a recent experiment over oceanic pollution in the tropics. I trust you're all very grateful for this opportunity."

You hear someone snicker at the desk in front of you. A few other students groan or roll their eyes. Oblivious, Mrs. Hertz continues her explanation undaunted, rapping her wooden pointer sharply against the blackboard to get everyone's attention.

"Now, then. The body of the moon jellyfish is made up of four main parts, all of which you will need to find and identify in order to earn a passing grade," she says, pointing toward different sections of the the crudely drawn chalk diagram as she rattles them off. "First, you'll need to locate the creature's central blind sac, as depicted _here;_ its gastro-vascular cavity, enclosed between these two joining structures drawn _here;_ the outer epidermis, which I should _hope_ would be obvious to you all by now; and finally, the inner gastrodermis, located _here_."

She pauses a moment, delicately adjusting her glasses on her nose. "If you require additional help, you'll find a more detailed explanation of the dissection procedure in your lab manuals, starting on page 137. Now, unless there are further questions, I would suggest you all remove your specimens and get to work."

Taking their cue, the kids around you begin to take off the covers of their lab trays, a few students making sounds of disgust or delight upon seeing the dead animal waiting inside. You're too busy trying to calculate how much of your overall grade this lab will be worth, and worrying about the upcoming history quiz in your next class, to spare a second thought to the jellyfish you're meant to dissect—that is, not until you've removed the hard plastic cover from the tray the creature's resting on, and seen its gelatinous, alien body lying there motionlessly on the table in front of you.

Your heart quickens in your chest, though you can't immediately place the reason why. You glance away from the dead jellyfish, but it's too late, the remembered image is still burned like a scar onto your retinas: its large, bulbous head, watery-clear and coated all around in a viscous jelly-like membrane; the sinewy inner organs, visible from outside its translucent body; and beneath all that, a host of thin, lifeless tentacles, spindling out bonelessly in all directions.

You have no idea why, but all at once, you can feel your body having a powerfully negative, nearly visceral reaction to image of the jellyfish in your mind. Nausea rises in your gut, as abruptly as though someone had punched your stomach; in the next instant you become immediately and painfully aware of your own breathing, like you're afraid you might stop being able to if you aren't paying close enough attention. A strange, horrible feeling of déjà vu begins to overtake your senses like a smothering blanket, drowning out all awareness of the outside world.

A second later, it hits you, the reason why your body feels like it's under attack: the jellyfish, it reminds you of the Scyphozoa, of your first real encounter with XANA. The beginning of the nightmare.

The memory hits you then, so powerful that you find yourself forced to lean over the desk on your locked, trembling arms for support. You're only half-present in the room with your classmates, the other half is back on Lyoko, _virtualized for the first time, watching as a strange spindly creature floats over to you from behind the blue wall that rose up out of nowhere to separate you from Aelita. You hear Jeremie shouting something at you over the comm, but the monster doesn't look strong, it's all gooey and stretched out like someone pulled its legs too far out from under it. You took out all the four-legged tarantulas already, and you're rearing for another challenge, compared to them this monster looks almost friendly in comparison. You run forward, swinging your sword, but something darts across your field of vision lightning-fast and knocks the weapon out of your hand. _

_Stunned, it takes you a moment to realize you're now defenseless, and as the jellyfish advances on you menacingly you find yourself unable to do anything but stare up at it in shock. With a sudden, foreboding sense of dread, you realize that something awful is about to happen to you._

_You back away, but monster's tentacles reach out and float slowly toward your body, no longer moving quickly because there isn't any need to. The creature knows perfectly well you can't escape. You wonder, for a racing moment, if you ought to try and make a break for it, but before you can move the tentacles have surrounded you completely in one fluid motion. With surprising speed, you find yourself lifted off your feet almost gently into the air from around your middle, and the slimy appendages wrap themselves firmly around your body in a perfect circle. You open your mouth, but before you can shout out, the creature places three __large_ tentacles to your temples and between your eyes: with a sudden, scrambled **pulse **of energy, the creature begins reprogramming you, and the ability to make sounds from your own mouth slips away like it was never there to begin with. With terrifying speed, your remaining consciousness disappears, all your memories and everything that makes you a person completely era-

-sping for breath, you come back to yourself in a wash of dizzying fear. You realize you're still in class with everyone else, doubled over on the desk leaning on trembling limbs that don't want to support you. You force yourself upright and glance around wildly, to make sure nobody has seen you in this state. You think a few pairs of eyes might be watching you from around the room, but it becomes suddenly very hard to see anything yourself: your vision has gone blurry with tears.

You force yourself to breathe deeply, in and out, in and out; you unthinkingly slip a hand up under your shirt to feel your heartbeat thrumming wildly through the skin of your chest. It feels like your heart might stop at any moment, you honestly feel like you are dying. You try to tell yourself to calm down, but a sudden wave of chills and heat spreads simultaneously up from your lower back up to the top your head, tingling against your lips and at the ends of your fingers. You try to breathe. In and out, in and out—when did that become so hard?

Another wave of chills wracks your body and you suddenly realize with a jolt that this has to be XANA's doing. There's a delayed virus in your system, maybe, some kind of fail-safe he put in place when it began to look as though he might actually lose. _Stupid_, you think aggressively to yourself. _I should have seen this coming._

You have to let Yumi know what's going on. But how can you tell her now, without Mrs. Hertz finding out, demanding to know what's going on?

A solution hits you at once like a brick, and you clumsily fall to your knees, dragging your canvas book-bag toward you so you can dig through it to find your cell phone.

_I'll call Yumi_, you think stupidly, absently wiping your wet face against your sleeve. _That way, Mrs. Hertz won't see us texting in class, and we won't get into trouble over it. Better call Jeremie, too, while I'm at it; he'll want to know right away if XANA's really launched an attack.  
_

Around you, you begin to pick up on the sound of your own name, albeit as though it were coming from far away:

"Why's William sitting on the ground?"

"Look, he's acting all weird again—"

"What's Dunbar doing _now?_"

The voices are cacophonous, malicious in their intent, threatening to spill over like a tide and drag you under. You shake your head in an attempt to clear it of your terror-stricken thoughts, and again you try to keep yourself focused on breathing, inhaling, exhaling. You're dying. You know you're dying from this.

With a harsh cry of relief, you finally close your fingers around your cell phone and dig it out of your school bag. Your fingers shake clumsily on the buttons, and you have to start over four times before you finally pull up Yumi's number correctly. Weak all over, shaking from sickness and indescribable fear, you brace yourself to make a phone call you aren't ready for. Before you can dial the number, however, an angry voice shakes you out of your stupor.

"_Mr. Dunbar!_ Get up off the floor this instant!"

You jerk your head upward, pupils dilating. Your heart skips a beat in your chest, adrenaline pumping crazily. Mrs. Hertz is standing there over you, her face set deeply in a scowl, and she has both hands set squarely on her hips.

"Well?" she demands, tapping one foot. "Don't make me repeat myself, William! I don't want any more trouble from you today, do you understand? Go on, get up!"

Your brain isn't working right. You have no idea what to say to her, nothing at all appears in your head when you try to think. "I was just looking for my phone," you stammer lamely, putting a hand up to your chest again. You feel like you aren't breathing, even though you know you are. You want to curl up and lock yourself in your room, but you'd never make it there if you tried.

"No cell phones are allowed in class! Now, get up, William!"

You stagger to your feet on her orders, bodily leaning against your desk again for support. You think you might be about to throw up.

"Mrs. Hertz—" you begin, feeling your knees threatening to give way beneath you. Your whole body heaves in a dry sob. "Y-Yumi. Yumi. I need—"

"What's that? What are you saying, William?" Mrs. Hertz demands, not getting.

You can hear your classmates speaking in loud whispers around you. "_I think he's finally lost it,_" one girl says in a hushed tone directly to your left.

You force yourself to look up at Mrs. Hertz. Tears begin to slide uncontrollably down your face, and you can't make them stop. Your chest hurts so much.

"Call the hospital," you manage to gasp out, falling to your knees.

Mrs. Hertz shouts something at you then, her voice alarmed, but you can't make out any of the words. You're looking wildly around the room, searching for Yumi. You finally see her among the other students, a lone black-clad figure running toward you, falling down to her knees at your side with an alarmed question of concern.

You try to tell her that XANA's attacking, but only useless gibberish comes out of your mouth. "I don't know, oh god, I don't know what's happening to me," you hear yourself say, and reality around you fades out into a mess of garbled nonsense without meaning.


End file.
